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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26325349">burnin' up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenlyfires/pseuds/heavenlyfires'>heavenlyfires</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Biology, Altean Lance (Voltron), Aphrodisiacs, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Consent is given multiple times!, Explicit Consent, Fantasizing, Half Altean Lance, Keith (Voltron) Has a Large Cock, Lance has a huge crush on Keith, Lance has a vagina, M/M, Masturbation, Pining Lance (Voltron), Shapeshifting Lance, Smitten Keith (Voltron), Top Keith (Voltron), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, lance can change his genitalia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:28:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26325349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenlyfires/pseuds/heavenlyfires</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance isn’t the most experienced with diplomacy, but he thinks — just maybe — that he might be fucked.<br/> <br/>He’s been better. His skin is flushed and sensitive, chafing against his suit. His knees wobble beneath his own weight. His body thrums like a live wire, ultra reactive.<br/> <br/>And it’s all to do with the<em> heat.</em></p>
<p>It’s not a fever; it’s not sickness of any kind. It’s not poison or heat stroke or exertion.</p>
<p> It’s need.</p>
<p>The late-night need that he usually rides out alone in his room, muffling his sounds on his own fingers. The kind that makes him whimper and squirm and cry as he chases stimulation. The horny, desperate, <em>‘God I need a dick inside me</em> now’ kind of need.</p>
<p>And it’s slowly taking over Lance’s whole body.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The mission would've been fine. If not for Lance's secret Altean heritage adding some... complications.</p>
<p>Faced with uncontrollable impulses and strict, sex-adverse hosts, Lance will have to find some way to alleviate the heat... or risk burning up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Lance (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>868</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. i got a fever, tell me what did you do?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! Come talk to me on twitter at @FiresHeavenly or tumblr at HeavenlyFires if you feel like it :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lance isn’t the most experienced with diplomacy, but he thinks — just maybe — that he might be fucked.</p><p>The tone of Allura’s voice has long since become a drone, words filtering in and out of his head with no retention. He stands behind her with the other paladins like a showpiece, incapable of speech or clear thought, unable to contribute. He’d feel bad, but… it’s all he can do to stay on his feet, honestly.</p><p>He’s— been better. His skin is flushed and sensitive, chafing against his suit. His knees wobble beneath his own weight. His body thrums like a live wire, ultra reactive.</p><p>And it’s all to do with the <em>heat</em>.</p><p>It’s not a fever; it’s not sickness of any kind. It’s not poison or heat stroke or exertion.</p><p>It’s need.</p><p>The late-night need that he usually rides out alone in his room, muffling his sounds on his own fingers. The kind that makes him whimper and squirm and cry as he chases stimulation. The horny, desperate, <em>‘God I need a dick inside me</em> now’ kind of need.</p><p>And it’s slowly taking over Lance’s whole body.</p><p>Lance has the presence of mind to thank the stars that he’d shifted to his pussy before this all began. Because despite the inconvenience of his growing wetness — despite how his cunt always seems unbearably responsive, despite the way there’s something about its fluttering that makes him fall into an even deeper sexual headspace, willing and waiting to be fucked <em>good</em>— his aroused pussy is a lot more discreet and a lot less insulting to their uptight hosts than a dick would be.</p><p>The perks of being part Altean, he guesses.</p><p>Which leads to another thing: he should have seen this coming.</p><p>“Perhaps the princess and her advisor should stay behind,” their hosts had said, purple fingers steepled in concern. “The Distra plant has… adverse effects on Alteans.”</p><p>The Wesalians had winced at the words, several of them cringing even at the reminder. They’re a bit weird; strict, but kind for the most part… Lance had assumed it was just their way of expressing concern.</p><p>Now it’s coming together with the clarity only hindsight can bring:</p><p>Prudish aliens, wary of the plant; plant potent to Alteans; Lance with Altean genes. Lance charging into an overgrown Distra thicket with the other paladins to retrieve a holy Wesalian relic.</p><p>Yeah, it’s all adding up, crystallizing into a distressingly clear image of Lance turning into a helpless, horny puddle on the ground and wrecking a vital Coalition alliance.</p><p>So yes, it was foolish to go along with the other paladins on the retrieval mission after hearing the warning, but here’s the thing — no one except Allura and Coran knows about him. It would be suspicious to stay behind when just moments before he’d been prattling on about how exciting it would be to travel through such a gorgeous rainforest.</p><p>And in Lance’s defense, this kind of thing hasn’t happened before— for whatever reason, humans seem tolerant to toxins that would poison almost any other species. It seems, for all intents and purposes, that he’s inherited his human mother’s resistance; time after time, he’s eaten things that even Coran wouldn’t dare touch and come out just fine on the other side.</p><p>All this to say, he’d thought it’d be <em>fine</em>. Maybe he’d get a little sick, at worst.</p><p>But now, heat curdling in his core, pussy slicking up further and further each minute, he’s realizing it’s <em>not</em> fine.</p><p>Not at all. It’s— unbearable, to tell the truth. He can barely move without biting back a noise, can’t bring himself to look anyone in the eyes for fear they’ll see the arousal simmering there. His whole body is <em>begging</em> him for some stimulation, but he can’t— he <em>can’t</em>. He fears that one touch could get him to crumple.</p><p>“You okay, Lance?”</p><p>And fuck, hearing Keith’s lowered voice right next to him is not helping, that delicious, deep rumble vibrating through his body. Lance sucks in a breath and nods, keeping his eyes staunchly averted. His pussy clenches desperately.</p><p>“Yea—yeah,” he blusters. “I’m fine, nothing to worry about. I’m— excellent. Peachy, really!”</p><p>And he’s maybe laying it on a little too strong. He winces and shuts his mouth sharply, ignoring the way Keith’s concerned stare burrows into the side of his face.</p><p>His cheeks warm to supernova temperatures.</p><p>“He’s right, Lance,” Hunk whispers from his other side. <em>Great</em>. “You look really flushed… here, let me feel—“</p><p>And Lance <em>jerks</em> away from Hunk’s hand as it reaches for his forehead, ignoring the shocked look it prompts.</p><p>“Uh, you know what? I’m just gonna— bathroom,” he squeaks, and promptly turns on his heel, striding away before anyone can think to protest, before Allura or the Wesalians notice and call him back to attention.</p><p>With every step he feels his labia subtly rubbing against each other, can feel the fabric of his undergarments rustling against his clit and beginning to cling to the wetness seeping out of him. His face heats and he bites his lip to suppress the moans bubbling in his chest. This is… more than him being horny. He’s panting now, legs trembling and his entire body burning like a furnace, waves of heat rippling out from his throbbing cunt.</p><p>He makes it out of the room and power walks down the hallway, panic creeping in around his temples.</p><p>God, what is happening to him? How bad is this gonna be?</p><p>He shudders under the realization that he’s going to have to play it out alone, in secret.</p><p>“Ooh, <em>fuck</em>,” he pants, stopping to lean against the wall as another wave hits him. He’s dizzy with it, this heat stroke that brings with it such a powerful want. He presses his forehead to the cool stone — a small relief — and can’t help but clench the muscles in his pussy to alleviate some of the staggering desire.</p><p>“Hah- <em>ahh</em>,” and <em>oh</em> even that little bit of stimulation has him spiraling.</p><p>Okay. No.</p><p><em>Bathroom now, relief later</em>, he scolds himself. He can’t bear to think about someone catching him like this. It would already be humiliating beyond belief, but the dutiful part of him latches onto the fact that the Wesalians abhor any public inkling of a sexual act, view sex as sacred and private. Any physical affection that is shared with the rest of the world must be dirty, wrong— a sign of pitiful control and worse morals.</p><p>The Wesalians know it’s different for other societies, but they’d specifically asked the Paladins to observe their customs while on planet. Lance had drawn a couple pointed looks when they heard the news, since he’s easily the most touchy of all of them. He’d assured the team that he’d keep it professional, that he wouldn’t let them down.</p><p>Fuck. And the Wesalians <em>warned </em>them about the Distra, Lance was just too stubborn to listen.</p><p>So. This is kind of a Big Deal.</p><p>Lance knows how he looks right now: flushed, bent in equal parts agony and pleasure, eyes teary and mouth dropped open, lips red from attempts to bite back his sounds.</p><p>And he’s so, so <em>wet</em>. He wonders if it’s soaked through, if there’s a damning patch of dampness spreading along the seam of his pants, announcing to the world how desperate his pussy is to be filled.</p><p>“<em>Uhhnn</em>,” he moans, a high pitched sound that battles its way up from his throat without permission. Another wave of slick pulses from his hole just at the thought of something filling it.</p><p>To put it bluntly: Lance is wrecked, filthy with desire and far too lost for diplomacy.</p><p>Anyone who sees him will instantly take offense.</p><p>“Ah--h, <em>bathroom</em>,” he breathes to himself sternly. He will not wreck such a vital alliance. He’ll find a way to take care of this.</p><p>He has to.</p><p>“Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom,” he repeats in a whispered mantra, eyes squeezed shut and brows furrowed. It’s the only way he can get sex off his mind long enough to muster the strength to move.</p><p>With Herculean effort, he pushes off the wall and stumbles along the hallway, gaze locked on the entrance to the communal bathrooms just a few dozen feet away. He thanks his lucky stars that no Wesalians have happened to turn the corner and see him in all his debauched glory.</p><p>Then—</p><p>“No, no, no, no,” he whines, because from around the corner...</p><p>He hears voices. Speak of the devil.</p><p>Lance lurches along the passage with his heart pounding in his chest, one hand trailing the wall so he won’t collapse if his shaky knees choose to buckle under him. He bites his lip to hold in the sounds that threaten to escape, little jolts of pleasure pinging down his legs with each step.</p><p>The sound is getting louder and louder, close enough that he can distinguish footsteps. Lance almost whimpers in desperation.</p><p>He can make out words, now: “— disciplined for outworlders, none of the obscene displays that we usually—”</p><p>His vision is getting spotty, his frantic steps too jarring for his overheated body to handle.</p><p>“— might actually join the Coali—”</p><p>
  <em>Fuck!</em>
</p><p>He throws himself through the door of the bathroom and immediately stumbles to his knees.</p><p>He lets a soft pained sound escape and pants with his palms flat against the stone floor. The cool radiating from under his hands soothes like a balm; Lance presses his forehead against it and almost shudders at the relief. The haziness in his vision, the ringing in his ears— they clear, albeit slowly. The desperate clenching of his pussy, on the other hand… that still needs remedy.</p><p>Immediately. <em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>Lance lifts his head and surveys the room. Luck must be on his side momentarily, because it’s dark, cool, and blessedly empty.</p><p>His eyes slide over to a couple of private bathing chambers across the room, small alcoves with water filled basins and—more importantly—locking doors. He’s not sure he can get to his feet again; his legs feel like putty, his arms trembling just at holding his upper body aloft. And now that the adrenaline’s fading, his body becomes more and more frantic for relief, able to turn its attention to the blinding <em>need</em> instead of fear of being caught.</p><p>Oh god, he’s so, so <em>horny</em>, instinctively arching his back so his pussy and ass are best displayed for the taking. The slick is trailing past his labia now, a thick, warm slide.</p><p>He never thought he could be so turned on that his body <em>leaks</em> for it, but here he is: legs spread, back arched, face flushed, and cunt gushing wetness.</p><p>Lance squeezes his thighs together a few times and moans softly, eyes slipping shut in pleasure. He shakes himself out of it, clutching to his awareness with an iron grasp. He’s not in the clear yet.</p><p>He begins to crawl across the bathing room, an agonizing journey when all he wants to do is press his burning body against the cool stone and shove something in his throbbing pussy. But somehow he manages, breathing like he just fought a Galra horde.</p><p>He drags himself into a private room and kicks the door closed, instantly flopping to the floor and struggling to divest himself of his clothes.</p><p>“Hmmmm, ah, ah,” he pants, writhing and kicking to work the fabric off his body. But despite his best efforts, he can’t get his pants off while laying down.</p><p>A plaintive whine escapes him, high and needy. If he were clear headed, he’d be marvelling at how he managed to make that noise.</p><p>Lance is very far from clear headed.</p><p>He stumbles to his feet, dragging himself to a shaky standing position by the doorknob. He leans face first against the door, mindlessly ripping at his clothes. As he tries to wrestle them off, however, the material clings to his legs, only relinquishing as he peels the fabric away from his flesh.</p><p>And <em>oh</em>.</p><p>Lance <em>knew</em> he was horny. He knew he was wet. But his eyes still widen as he sees the sheer amount of liquid dripping down his thighs.</p><p><em>There's so much</em>, he thinks, deliriously. And for some reason it turns him on even more, the fact that his little hole is leaking, empty for it. Readying to be fucked.</p><p>“Ohh,” he breathes. He trails a hand up his thigh, starting just above his knee and following the stream of his wetness, collecting slick on his hand as he goes and squirming under his own touch. He brings his hand up and marvels at the thick coating. It smells more potent than usual, heady and ripe. Sweet and cloying.</p><p>He brings a finger to his mouth and sucks it inside, moaning at the musky taste of his own pussy. He feels more and more wetness escaping him the more turned on he gets, rubs his thighs together to revel in the sensation and make his folds flutter in satisfaction.</p><p>Fuuuck. He’s convinced he could take a cock right now, stretching be damned.</p><p>Before he can stop it, an image of Keith — sweaty and flushed and <em>shirtless</em> after a training sequence — pops into his mind. Lance tries to banish it, but his body has other ideas, becoming even more pliant and ready at the thought of his team leader spearing him open on his half-Galra dick.</p><p>Lance whimpers and clenches against air, wishing the emptiness inside him was thick, hot flesh instead. He brings a hand down to his folds and trails along his warm, swollen pussy lips, rubbing his own slick into his sensitive skin. He flicks a finger against his clit and--</p><p>“<em>Ahhh</em>!” He staggers under the pleasure, dropping to his knees with a cry, whole body keyed up and hyper sensitive. He presses his face against the door as his body shudders in an orgasmic wave; the muscles tense without quarter and then <em>release</em> with his breath.</p><p>It’s not an orgasm, but <em>God</em> if it isn’t almost as good.</p><p>Lance shudders in the aftermath and marvels at how responsi—</p><p>“Uh!”</p><p><em>Heat</em> suddenly hits him like a tsunami, burning him from the inside out. It knocks the air from his lungs, knocks him to the ground as his body’s overcome. He mewls out a weak little “ahh” and presses himself face first against the floor, but the cool stone provides little relief against such a blistering burn.</p><p>It’s unbearable. It’s too much, It’s killing him! Desperation grants him strength— he scrabbles against the floor, tearing at the clothes that still cling to him. He needs them <em>off off off</em>!</p><p>He strips himself without regard to the state of his suit, tossing the pieces as far away from him as he can manage. He doesn’t wait to revel in the air caressing his now-naked body; the second he’s bare, Lance <em>shoves</em> a finger inside himself.</p><p>“Ahhhnnn!” He moans. God, it feels so <em>good</em> to satisfy the craving, to give in to the pleasure. Every touch is electric, potent. It’s like all his senses have been dialed up to the max.</p><p>Lance thrusts the finger into his little pussy, moaning at the feel. His muscles are vice like, his cunt obscenely tight after almost an hour of the tension in his body ratcheting up, up, up.</p><p>He forces himself to relax, presses against the spots within him that make his eyes roll back in his head. Another finger works in under his ministrations, only increasing the pleasure with the beautiful <em>stretch</em> it brings him. He rolls his hips slightly, hitting that spot again and again and shoving a fist in his mouth to muffle his sounds.</p><p>He can’t control himself:</p><p>He thinks of the power in Keith’s body and rams his fingers deep inside his tunnel with a cry. His hips shove backward against the digits inside him and that’s all it takes to send him hurtling into a surprise orgasm.</p><p>“<em>Keith</em>,” he moans. “Ahhh!”</p><p>He collapses forward, grateful that he had the foresight to muffle himself. He would <em>die</em> if anyone heard him. And he’d probably be resurrected just to die all over again if Keith knew Lance had come at the thought of him.</p><p>Fuck, he can’t worry about that right now.</p><p><em>Calm yourself, Lance</em>, he thinks.</p><p>He catches his breath, body totally limp, the feverish hold over him released. It feels like heaven. Now that Lance has come, worked off whatever it is that hijacked his body so effectively, he can finally return to the meeting and focus on the mission.</p><p>Good.</p><p>He turns over on his back and moans as his slick-covered thighs slide together.</p><p>
  <em>What.</em>
</p><p>And <em>oh—</em></p><p><em>Fuck</em>. The heat is building again. Lance’s cunt flutters, trying to coax his fingers — or something bigger, better — inside. It’s already soaked from his orgasm, only getting wetter as more and more slick pools in his hole and spills over.</p><p>“Nnnnn,” he whines, pussy clenching. “Ah—”</p><p><em>No</em>.</p><p>He’s already been gone for ten minutes, if not more. He can’t afford to be missing for much longer. It’ll arouse suspicion, and then—</p><p><em>Ohhh</em>, his thighs slide together just right. He squeezes them tightly and rides out the pleasure. It’s nothing but the shifting of his legs, but it feels so fucking <em>good</em>.</p><p>“Fuck, stop that,” he hisses at himself, stilling his traitorous limbs.</p><p>Right. Staying longer will arouse suspicion, and then someone will come looking for him. He shudders; heaven forbid anyone finds him like this, messy and helpless and <em>wrecked</em>. His mind quails at the thought.</p><p>His hole, of course, begs to differ, pulsing a siren’s call, luring his fingers to sink into the wetness brewing between his legs.</p><p>He curls his hands into fists to resist the temptation.</p><p>He’s determined. He won’t succumb.</p><p><em>What you need to do, Lance</em>, he thinks, <em>is get up, towel yourself off, and walk back to the meeting.</em></p><p>Yes.</p><p>That.</p><p>He can totally do that.</p><p>No problem.</p><p>...</p><p>He keens as he shoves two fingers as deep inside himself as he can.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Lance loses track of his orgasms — he thinks he’s come three times? but it’s so hard to tell when his mind is clouded, only focused on wringing more and more pleasure out of his demanding pussy.</p><p>He’s on his back, knees against his chest and little cunt bared to the cool, soothing air. He’s got three fingers thrusting hard and deep in his hole, and he works his clit with the other hand, legs spasming with each flick over his sensitive nub. His clothes lay rumpled in a pile in the corner of the room, and his hair is surely mussed from rolling in pleasure these last (twenty? thirty? <em>forty?</em>) minutes.</p><p>He’s a mess, but he can’t bring himself to care.</p><p>Footsteps sound in the main chamber, but Lance pays them no mind — a few Wesalians have come in while he’s been here, none any the wiser to Lance’s debauchery just a wall away.</p><p>He grew up with five siblings. Lance knows a thing or two about keeping himself quiet.</p><p>He goes back to punishing his swollen, hungry cunt, reveling in the squelch caused by each thrust displacing his juices. But— that’s odd. He tenses as the footsteps come to rest just beyond the door.</p><p>He slows his hand to quiet the sound of his thrusting, turns to deep, slow circles that press against his g spot and leave him gaping.</p><p>“You in there, Lance?”</p><p>“Ha, <em>fuck</em>!”</p><p>Lance can’t fight the hiss from escaping, barely bites back a moan at hearing Keith’s voice — deep, gravely, <em>strong</em> — so near. The fantasies roar to life, images of those strong arms holding him pinioned against Keith’s chiseled chest as Keith plunders Lance’s ripe little pussy.</p><p>He should answer, he really should — they must be worried about him— but if he says anything else Keith will <em>know</em>. Lance can’t possibly make any other sound than an overwhelmed moan, not with the way he’s hovering so close to the edge. Not with the way his fingers strike deep and true inside him, a delicious pressure. Not with the way he circles his clit, a tantalizing pleasure.</p><p>He should stop, get his voice back, and answer. But he <em>can’t</em>.</p><p>“Lance? You okay?”</p><p>Not with the way Keith is so close, one door away from a fantasy, his hands and teeth marking Lance all over. Not with the way his voice makes something tremble deep in Lance’s core, a soundtrack to the dirty dreams in which he features.</p><p>He’s just one door away from finding Lance like this, wrecked pussy open for him, <em>begging</em> for him, pliant for whatever Keith wills. For his delicious cock.</p><p>Lance pants, mouth dropped open in ecstasy. He doesn’t want to be caught, he <em>doesn’t</em>. But the possibility…</p><p><em>Ohhh</em>, the possibility brings him startlingly close to the edge.</p><p>“<em>Lance</em>.”</p><p>His eyes fall on the door — unlocked.</p><p>The handle jiggles.</p><p>Lance comes.</p><p>Eyes rolling back in his head, he arches off the floor in pleasure, a silent moan ripping out of him as he tumbles over the edge into his orgasm. Distantly he registers the door opening, feels the rush of air as it swings inward, hears the way Keith’s voice cuts off as he sees Lance wracked with ecstasy.</p><p>Lance's eyes open and lock onto Keith’s as he shakes through the waves of pleasure, heightened into appalled but <em>incredible</em> aftershocks as he registers Keith’s gaze burning into him. He thinks he might moan Keith’s name; his cunt gushes around his fingers, a flood of arousal spilling out under his team leader’s scrutiny.</p><p>He trembles and falls out of the arch, weakened by orgasm and eyes half lidded.</p><p>With a final spasm it’s done— Lance left laying limp and wet and boneless and <em>bare</em> on the ground, Keith looming shocked above him. Lance spends a horrified moment locked in paralysis, fingers still buried deep in his pussy and chest heaving from exertion. Neither move.</p><p>Then:</p><p>“Ohhhno,” Lance whimpers, ripping his hand free and curling into himself, face crumbling. Of all people — of <em>all</em> people, <em>Keith</em> is the one who had to see Lance so disheveled, so undisciplined, so desperate to cum that he shoved three fingers up his cunt in the middle of a diplomatic mission.</p><p><em>Keith doesn’t like it when distractions get in the way of the mission</em>, he thinks inanely. He squeezes his eyes shut, too scared to look up and see Keith’s good opinion of him dissolve right before his eyes.</p><p>The door clicks closed.</p><p>Suddenly there’s a presence right beside him— Keith, kneeling over him.</p><p>“Lance,” he says, and he sounds… worried, not angry. Frantic, maybe, when Lance fails to respond. “Hey, are you all right?”</p><p>Keith pauses. He must be taking in Lance’s watery eyes and puffy, wet lips and sweat covered body and shaking chest and soaked, swollen pussy. Lance shivers; for the first time in what must be years, he wishes Keith’s eyes weren’t on him. But Keith doesn’t comment on Lance’s sex-ravaged body, just asks:</p><p>“Have you been at this the whole time?”</p><p>It takes a while for Lance to muster words against the pressure building behind his eyes, but when he does, they burst out of him, too forceful for the small space.</p><p>“I—!” Lance cries, hysterical, eyes still shut tight enough to scrunch his face up. His breaths tear jaggedly and distressed from his chest. “Fuck, oh god, you just— you saw—“</p><p>He cuts off as he opens his eyes and sees Keith’s face hovering right above him.</p><p>And now there are tears pooling, making his voice and lip wobble as he says “I’m sorry, I, I didn’t — it just—“ he hiccups once and then the tension in his chest releases as a sob.</p><p>His shoulder shake and tears slide down his twisted face, a cathartic release of all his heightened emotions from the last hour. It feels simultaneously good and humiliating to cry— desperately needed, but his consciousness is screaming that Keith’s right there, privy to it all.</p><p>As if he hasn’t already embarrassed himself enough.</p><p>“Woah, Lance— hey, don’t cry. I’m gonna help you, okay, baby?”</p><p>Lance sniffles, pries open his watery eyes, and nods. “O-okay,” he hiccups.</p><p>“Okay. Okay, <em>shit</em>. Can I touch you?” Another nod, and Keith’s arms are winding their way around him, a strong forearm pushing behind his shoulders and the other coming up to steady Lance’s waist as Keith pulls him into a sitting position, resting against his chest. Lance ducks his head into Keith’s shoulder and takes a few shuddery breaths as Keith’s arm smooths over his back.</p><p>They stay like that for a couple calming minutes.</p><p>Eventually, Keith pushes Lance away, just a tad— just enough to let his eyes trail over him, appraising just how <em>wrecked</em> Lance really is. It makes his face burn, forces his eyes into an abashed downward turn. He sees the furrow of Keith’s brow, but can’t muster the words to explain.</p><p>Keith’s hand reaches down as if to scoop up some of Lance’s slick, then abruptly recoils as he realizes what he’s doing. He laughs once, an agitated, overwhelmed sound.</p><p>“Fuck. Okay, you’re…very wet.” He looks helplessly from the mess of Lance’s inner thighs to his downturned, boiling face.</p><p>“Lance, this can’t be normal. What happened?”</p><p>Lance still can’t look at him. He hesitates. Where to start?</p><p>The silence does nothing to appease Keith’s worries. As the possibility dawns on him, something dark and ferocious passes over his face. His voice lowers into a growl, audible fury not directed at Lance, but waiting to be unleashed on a target. “Did someone do this to you?”</p><p>“No! I— no, Keith,” Lance says, looking Keith in the eye so he’ll know it’s the truth.</p><p>“I think…” Oh God, he’s doing this. His voice lowers under the weight of the truth. “I think it was the Distra.”</p><p>Under different conditions it would be immensely satisfying to see Keith’s eyes widen. His brow twists in confusion.</p><p>“The plant? But Lance, that’s…”</p><p>Keith trails off as light bathes the chamber, a pale glow emanating from the marks Lance has let show, spiraling down his body and twinkling on his cheeks. They fade from pink to orange to yellow to blue, pastel swirls that Lance knows are beautiful. Still, he looks worriedly for Keith’s reaction.</p><p>It’s not every day you reveal a life long secret to your crush.</p><p>“You’re… Altean,” he says.</p><p>“Part,” Lance corrects. “But enough to be affected, it seems.” He can’t help his rueful tone. Why didn’t he <em>consider</em> the fact before he charged recklessly into the brush?</p><p>“But how?” Keith wonders.</p><p>“It’s a long story,” Lance says quietly. He’s… exhausted. “Can we talk about it some other time? Please?”</p><p>Keith’s eyes linger on his marks, following their trails along the length of Lance’s body. But he tears his gaze away and meets Lance’s eye, softening.</p><p>“Of course. So, you touched the plant, and it acted as some kind of aphrodisiac for you. What can we expect from here? Is it over?”</p><p>Lance wishes he had the answer.</p><p>“I … don’t know. I honestly wasn’t expecting it to have an effect on me at all! But then I started feeling weird after we got back. Keith, it was—” He squeezes his eyes shut, breathes deeply to force back another wave of tears as the helplessness washes over him again. “—so bad. I barely made it here before I collapsed. And even when I… when I came, it wasn’t going away. I couldn’t stop! And I was so worried, and then <em>you</em>—”</p><p>He chokes a little, breath catching in his throat as he remembers the sheer mortification of that orgasm under Keith’s appalled gaze. Of how it was <em>better</em> for being witnessed by Keith, and that makes the burn of embarrassment even worse.</p><p>Lance buries his face in his hands, but Keith’s are there to pry them gently away, to soothe Lance and hold him together. Keith strokes the hair off Lance’s sweaty forehead.</p><p>“Hey, you’ll get through this, okay? I’m right here to help you. What can I do to make it better?”</p><p>Lance lets out a humorless chuckle. “Forget you saw anything, preferably.”</p><p>“Listen. You don’t need to be embarrassed, Lance. All I care about is that you’re okay.” His hand cups Lance’s chin and tilts his face upward so Lance can see the burning sincerity in those dark eyes.</p><p>His heart traitorously skips a beat. Keith’s gaze searches his own, scouring for any trace of doubt. Like he’s ready to jump into action to prove to Lance that he means it.</p><p>Like he’d do anything for Lance.</p><p>All of a sudden the tears in Lance’s eyes sting for a different reason. His heart hurts. He feels so… supported. Unconditionally.</p><p>“Keith, I...” he starts, then swallows. Best keep it simple. “Thank you.”</p><p>Keith just smiles back at him, devastating. “Of course.”</p><p>He gets to his feet and crosses to Lance’s clothes in the corner.</p><p>And the moment’s broken, but the fuzzy cloud of confusion and over-stimulation and fear and <em>desperation</em> that’s shrouded Lance for the last hour is dissipating, leaving room for warmth in his chest and a light blush across his cheeks— the charmed kind, not the <em>oh god my crush saw me orgasm let me die</em> kind.</p><p>Keith continues, oblivious to effect his comfort is having. He bends and collects the bundle of fabric in his arms, turning each piece right side out.</p><p>“They sent me to find you for a ceremony that needs all of us, apparently.” He tosses a wry — <em>dashing</em>, Lance thinks — grin over his shoulder. “But obviously we’re not gonna do that now.”</p><p>He walks back to Lance, crouches down, and holds Lance’s clothes out for him, offering a little smile. God, it makes him look impossibly handsome.</p><p>“We’ll get you cleaned up, tell the Wesalians you’re not feeling good, and leave. Simple as that.”</p><p>He says it so easily, like Lance’s comfort is such a priority over coalition business that there’s no contest. He’s dropping everything, just for Lance.</p><p>And Lance feels warm, cradled in Keith’s attention. He can feel his crush growing in intensity as they speak, but it doesn’t seem daunting like it always used to.</p><p>He offers his own tentative smile back. Somehow everything’s just easier with Keith by his side.</p><p>He whispers his agreement:</p><p>“Simple as that.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. temperature risin' when I look at you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Lance,” Keith says, admonishing. Lance squirms under the sound of his name on Keith’s lips. “You told me you’d say something.”<br/></p>
<p>His voice is harsh, but not angry. No, exasperated would be a better word. Either way it makes the deepest part of Lance’s mind — the only part of him not utterly overtaken by need — quail in embarrassment.<br/></p>
<p>“Fuck, how did I not notice it?” Keith continues. “You’re leaking.”<br/></p>
<p>And <em>that</em> sends the worst blush to Lance’s cheeks. “You can — <em>haaaa</em>, you can tell?” He pants, aghast. “How?”<br/></p>
<p>Keith’s hand traces a featherlight path down Lance’s inner thigh, and Lance <em>opens</em> for him like a flower blooming, thighs parting instantly, yielding completely to Keith’s touch.<br/></p>
<p>“I can smell it on you,” Keith says.<br/></p>
<p>And oh <em>fuck</em>.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It does not, in fact, turn out to be simple. Just Lance’s luck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stands shadowed by sheer maze walls, nothing but a dull dirt path extending forward and behind him, fingers clenched around the artifact in his hands, clinging desperately to his denial.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please just wait until we’re gone. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Please.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the Distra is relentless. Its pollen works in waves, each successive pulse a failsafe in case intruders in the thicket manage to overcome the first. That’s what the Wesalians had said, at least, after Lance and Keith returned to the meeting and Lance managed to subtly work the question into conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d slipped back under a lot more scrutiny than Lance had hoped — mostly worry, thankfully — but they’d been able to wave away most of the concern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lance </span>
  </em>
  <span>had alleviated the worry. Keith, not so much. Due to his... characteristic bluntness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance is sick,” he’d said gruffly as soon as they reached the others. “I’m gonna take him back to the castle ship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he hadn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>waited</span>
  </em>
  <span> for confirmation before he was reaching for Lance’s waist and turning, ready to stride away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait!” Allura cried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance, too, had frozen, nervously eyeing the way Keith tensed and ground his jaw. He bit his lip as Keith turned, brow furrowed dangerously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Allura's eyes pinched in apology, her hands wringing in front of her body. She glanced warily over at the Wesalian noble beside her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The ceremony to activate the artifact requires the participation of those who found it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>All </span>
  </em>
  <span>of them. Because the artifact... </span>
  <em>
    <span>imprints, </span>
  </em>
  <span>for lack of a better word, on the quintessence of the first life forms to retrieve it. Everyone must be present.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s displeasure all but radiated out from him. She scrambled to placate him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But it won’t take long! An hour, maybe, and as </span>
  <em>
    <span>soon</span>
  </em>
  <span> as it’s complete you and Lance can return to the castle ship, I assure you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Wesalian beside her nodded. “The ceremony must be completed soon after the return of the artifact,” they said, “or the quintessence bond gets too weak.” They faced Lance and made their symbol of acknowledgement, swiping a hand from their forehead to their chest. “We are most sorry, red paladin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance,” Allura said, stepping closer to him. “I am truly sorry to ask it of you, but do you think you’ll be able to participate?” Her eyes scanned him in concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Lance was feeling better, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was. A little shaky in the legs, sure. A little gross, a little sticky, a little keyed up and anxious... yeah, definitely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the heat was gone, Keith was right beside him, and the Wesalians </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. Lance working through a bit of discomfort, or messing up a ritual that would require the artifact to be purified of quintessence by being left in the wilderness for another hundred years. The option seemed obvious. Besides, he could last an hour, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine,” he assured. “I’ve faced worse than a little fever.” The hand on his waist tightened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lance</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring Keith, he turned to the Wesalian.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I’ll do it.” Lance flashed his most charming smile and couldn’t help the little boost to his ego as he saw the pleased look on their face. They acknowledged him again and turned to some assistants hovering at the edges of the room, signaling something to them that sent them rushing into motion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance cleared his throat lightly, smile never slipping from place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So! That’s settled. Actually, as we wait to get started, I have to say, I’m kind of curious about the nature of the Distra flower…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d wanted to be prepared, and the Wesalian’s information had certainly been insightful, if not the answer he’d wanted to hear. But at least now he knew… there would be multiple waves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Great</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was okay, really. The Wesalians had rushed off to prepare the ceremony as quickly as possible, and it seemed that the waves were spaced far enough apart that he’d be back on the castle ship — </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span> — before another hit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was all gonna be fine, he’d assured himself.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, it’s not fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance can admit that now, can admit that Keith maybe had a point when he’d hissed “are you out of your mind?” as soon as the Wesalian noble was out of earshot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But how was Lance to know?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Relax, Keith,” he’d said. “They said the waves are hours apart. I’ll be fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he couldn’t help it, he’d let his face soften and a dopey little smile emerge. “Thank you for worrying. But let’s just get this over with, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah. It was a risk. But what else can he do? The piece of relic in his hands just reminds him of the fact that this whole ceremony depends on them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even now it glows a little in his hands, pulsing softly and trying to signal him as to where to go, how to get through this maze and reunite it with the other two pieces. It’s supposed to have latched onto his quintessence and started tugging him in the right direction. Which it... has, he guesses. The signal’s just too weak to make out a concrete direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance shifts uncomfortably, feeling that stirring deep in his core again. He’s not sure how much time he has.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keith?” He calls, glancing up to where his team leader’s crouched on top of the maze wall. They’re cheating a little, but the relic’s a lot harder to read than the Wesalians seemed to think! How are they supposed to make it to the center and merge their part with the other two if they can’t ever make it there?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then again…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It will take some time for the artifact to fully emerge out of its dormancy,” the priest, Senadha, had said. They’d touched the artifact pieces that the paladins presented with such </span>
  <em>
    <span>tenderness, </span>
  </em>
  <span>such </span>
  <em>
    <span>reverence. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was no wonder they were the Wesalian tasked with overseeing the ritual.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It may take some time, but don’t fear. The artifact has latched onto your quintessence. It wouldn’t have started glowing otherwise. And the process of its awakening is beautiful, sacred. The three pieces must work in conjunction with you to reach the center and merge into its complete form, awakening, strengthening, and cementing not only the bond among all three parts, but between the living world and the artifact.” Their voice had lifted up into something choked and almost tearful, except that Lance couldn’t see any signs of actual tears (an alien thing, he’d guessed). “You are truly blessed to witness it firsthand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was interesting. But understanding the ceremony was reasonably low on the priority list considering Lance’s whole body was a ticking time bomb working against him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seemed Keith had the same idea. After the third time they’d stopped, Lance desperately trying to read the faint signals from the relic in his hands, Keith had placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder in some kind of message before he’d scaled the maze wall like it was nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Keith,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance had hissed, as if someone was there to hear. “What’re you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have time for this, Lance,” he’d said, voice deep and matter of fact. “I’m not gonna wait for some old rock to work up the effort to tell us how to get out of here when we </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be getting you back to the castle.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d been resolute. And Lance couldn’t even complain. He’s always been a sucker for seeing Keith’s protective streak activate on his behalf, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Also, now that they’ve stopped and Lance has the time to take stock of his body, he’ll admit that Keith kinda had a point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Keith’s voice snaps Lance out of his reverie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” He asks dumbly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You called,” Keith says, looking down from his soldier’s crouch on the maze wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I....” Lance catalogues the thrum though his body. His heart is starting to pick up, his breaths are just barely starting to come out more crooked, that insatiable </span>
  <em>
    <span>pull </span>
  </em>
  <span>deep inside him is getting stronger. He squirms on his feet. He should tell Keith.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>promised</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d tell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um. Do you see the way?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chickens out at the last second. No use worrying Keith when there’s nothing they can do anyway. Besides, the last wave took almost an hour to get really bad. He can handle it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thud. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Keith drops to the ground in front of him with more grace than necessary. Stupid galra genes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he grunts. “It’s this way.” He thumbs over his shoulder. Then he pauses and squints at Lance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah,” Lance says. He lets his tone get a little snarky, falling into that familiar tone because it’s the easiest way he knows how to hide his feelings. He ignores the fact that his voice sounds significantly too weak and shaky for it to land. “Just getting tired waiting for you, mullet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To his massive disappointment, Keith doesn’t take the bait. He just runs his stupid observant gaze over Lance again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll tell me if you start feeling bad, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Lance lies. “Of course.”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>He holds out for another ten minutes. Which, honestly, is pretty admirable, if he does say so himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Considering not only are his legs shaking, his body flushing, his cunt </span>
  <em>
    <span>fluttering,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but he somehow has to keep walking like nothing’s going on. With Keith right there next to him, able to hear every sound Lance makes, see every expression that crosses his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance is so determined to prove that it’s all okay, that Keith doesn’t need to worry, but eventually… he slips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nnnnh,” he gasps. It’s because he’s stepped on a stone that has his foot twisting and body jolting into an extra step before he’s ready, throwing him out of balance and making him release the breath he was holding. It comes out in a whine, instantly drawing Keith’s attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith places a steadying hand on his elbow, and — well. The touch doesn’t help. Even just the warmth of Keith’s palm has Lance’s body tingling in delight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” Keith asks, shrewd gaze roving Lance’s face. Lance nods, lips pressed tightly together. He viciously fights off the blush rising to his cheeks and squeaks out an “uh huh” before hurrying forward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not so lucky the next time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just a few minutes later, the heat has already grown so much worse, turning Lance’s even breaths into pants that he fights to keep as silent as possible. The paladin armor is getting unbearably warm; the tingles of sensation he gets just from his thighs sliding together are turning his legs to jelly and core to slush.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s trembling, biting his lip to hold in his gasps of pleasure as his sensitive pussy clenches and shudders with every step, every movement bringing new stimulation. He’s fallen behind Keith now, just two steps, but he’s so thankful for the small gap. He wonders if he could actually orgasm like this, nothing but the chafing of his thighs driving him over the edge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His steps falter and slow, and on one more precarious step he finally has to stop and drop into a crouch for some reprieve. Lance presses his palms flat against the ground and pants, trying to stop his little cunt’s clenching, but it’s so so </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard </span>
  </em>
  <span>with how desperate he is to be fucked full.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance—“ Keith starts, and Lance realizes with horror that Keith had stopped and turned to look at him and he said he’d be alright and Keith </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t know—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance all but bolts upright.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Big mistake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instantly, Lance’s vision greens out, head too dizzy to let him walk straight or move or even </span>
  <em>
    <span>see. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He stumbles, clenching his eyes shut tight against the rush. He reaches out for the wall as he feels himself tipping, body bracing for impact—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Into a sturdy chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keith. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance’s eyes snap open as the dizziness fades, leaving him with an up close and personal view of those </span>
  <em>
    <span>impeccable</span>
  </em>
  <span> biceps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—,” he starts, cringing and looking up. A few things happen in quick succession: Lance meets Keith’s gaze. Lance registers the way Keith’s hands have splayed over his body, warm and weighty</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance gets hit by one of the most powerful waves yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not sure what causes it — whether he’s just let his guard down, and his body is more susceptible, more welcoming to the pollen, whether it’s the touch of someone’s body against his, whether the force of Keith’s gaze and the attraction it inevitably brings is enough to jumpstart Lance’s heat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only thing Lance knows is there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>no way</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s fooling Keith now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Keith, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keith</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he pants, hand scrambling for purchase on the front of Keith’s suit. He cuts off with a sob-like whine, desperate for relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance,” Keith says, admonishing. Lance squirms under the sound of his name on Keith’s lips. “You told me you’d say something.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His voice is harsh, but not angry. No, exasperated would be a better word. Either way it makes the deepest part of Lance’s mind — the only part of him not utterly overtaken by need — quail in embarrassment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, how did I not notice it?” Keith continues. “You’re leaking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>sends the worst blush to Lance’s cheeks. “You can — haaaa, you can tell?” He pants, aghast. “How?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s hand traces a featherlight path down Lance’s inner thigh, and Lance </span>
  <em>
    <span>opens </span>
  </em>
  <span>for him like a flower blooming, thighs parting instantly, yielding completely to Keith’s touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can smell it on you,” Keith says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I— ohhhn.” Lance twists downward, body crumpling under a knee-weakening spike of heat, caught and held by Keith’s warm hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Keith’s pushing him, his large, sturdy palm a warm pressure against Lance’s back. He pulls Lance into an alcove — a wayward branch of the maze — and lets him collapse against his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance,” he says. “I’m gonna help you like we talked about. Tell me now if you’ve changed your mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance hasn’t. He wants Keith more than ever, even more than when he first considered Keith’s offer of help in case things got bad, back when they were cleaning him up. His heartbeat pounds in his ears and that intoxicating heat is closing over him again. Except this time, it’s narrowed to a point, everything in him pulling toward a single target: Keith.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t,” he gasps. “Please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thinks he’ll turn to flame, burn out and crumble to ash if Keith doesn’t touch him soon. He doesn’t have to wait long:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s unbuckling his belt, shoving the fabric of Lance’s suit pants down enough to bare Lance’s pussy to the air. After the barest moment of hesitation, Keith’s fingers press at his folds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance’s knees buckle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ahn,” he gasps, body gone limp, only held up by the steady hold of Keith’s arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith huffs out a groan, deep and throaty like it’s been pulled out from him by force. He withdraws his hand and they both marvel at the trail of slick connecting his fingers to Lance’s pussy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, look at you,” Keith says. “I've never seen such a wet little hole.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah— s—sorry,” Lance manages. It makes sense for Keith to be shocked, even disgusted, he thinks, having to deal not only with the mess that is Lance but also the very literal mess dripping between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chances a glance upward and sees Keith’s gaze locked and hungry on the wet sheen across his fingers. His eyes pull up to Lance’s and sizzle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t say sorry,” He says, low and intense. “It’s hot. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>fucking hot, god.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance thinks maybe he died. Maybe he had an allergic reaction, or his altean-human genes reacted just so for the Distra pollen to turn out deadly. Cause this can’t be real; that’s the only explanation for the fact that he’s here, witnessing Keith Kogane get turned on just by </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking </span>
  </em>
  <span>at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fingers return and Lance loses any train of coherent thought, his head tilting upward and eyes rolling back in pleasure. There’s something so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>better </span>
  </em>
  <span>about someone else touching him. About </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keith</span>
  </em>
  <span> touching him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s fingers are thicker than Lance’s own, calloused and steady and </span>
  <em>
    <span>dangerously </span>
  </em>
  <span>good as they stretch out Lance’s inner walls. The best part is, Keith doesn’t tease — he instantly starts up a quick pace that leaves Lance moaning and the heat lowering into a bearable simmer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even still, Lance has never felt so attuned to every sensation in his core. He all but thrashes in Keith’s grip, bonafide tears dripping down his face as he pants and whines and whimpers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, Lance, hold still,” Keith says, pinning Lance against his chest so he doesn’t slip right out of his arms. But Lance is too far out of his wits to respond. Too far out of control to rein in his reveling body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just basks in the pleasure, holding onto Keith for dear life, and — </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Keith</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he moans, feeling those glorious fingers strike a new spot in him as Keith starts moving them. Lance stumbles backward, propelled by Keith’s gentle pushing and the two fingers still deep inside him. “Wh—ah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh baby, just gonna prop you up against the wall,” Keith says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he does. And Lance is even able to distantly thank him for it in the deepest reaches of his mind, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>holy fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, once Keith pushes Lance up against the stone wall, he fucking kneels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance has never, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>thought he’d see the day when Keith Kogane knelt before him. He probably would’ve passed out if his past self had ever known Keith would </span>
  <em>
    <span>eat him out.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck!” He shouts, feeling the first touch of Keith’s tongue against his sensitive clit. His whole body spasms, but Keith’s holding him by the hips, pinning him to the wall and keeping him up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thank God, because Lance is pretty sure he blacks out after that. At the very least, he’s incapable of forming any thoughts, his fingers scrambling against the wall and then finding purchase in Keith’s hair in desperation. His head tilts back against the stone and his mouth hangs open, spit slick and drooling. His chest heaves for breath and his </span>
  <em>
    <span>pussy</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>pussy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His pussy clenches and spasms and shakes and leaks and leaks and </span>
  <em>
    <span>leaks</span>
  </em>
  <span> under Keith’s tongue. Keith’s everywhere, tongue fucking inside Lance’s tight little hole and swirling through his labia, collecting all of his slick, flicking against his clit. Everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance sings through it, an endless soundtrack of stilted moans. And as he gets closer and closer to his peak— as Keith just keeps working him better and </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span>— his whole body tightens.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly a new concern rears its head:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keith,” Lance gasps, fingers pulling at Keith’s hair, disconnecting the other man’s mouth from his fluttering cunt. “Keith, up, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha—?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stand— up— </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keith against him, to be able to feel him chest to chest. To feel that closeness, to have Keith as a shield to keep him hidden as he reaches his most vulnerable point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It only takes a second for understanding to spark in Keith’s eyes. He gives Lance’s pussy one more knee-shaking kiss and rises to his feet, suddenly looming over Lance and staring him in the face, breath against breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tilts his forehead down to Lance’s as his fingers slip inside once more. And then he’s fucking Lance harder than ever before, a punishing, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful</span>
  </em>
  <span> rhythm. Lance trembles against him, ecstatic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s body shields him from the rest of the maze, from the whole world, strong and capable; built to protect. Keith’s good at that; watching over the people he l— the people he cares about. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it feels so, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be someone Keith values enough to protect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance tilts his hips down to meet the unyielding press of Keith’s fingers, gasping each time the blunt fingertips brush over his sweet spot. They rock together like that, both of them breathing heavily, wordless and gasping. Lance is electric.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s embarrassingly quick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just a couple minutes of rocking, of the calloused drag of Keith’s fingers inside him, and Lance is ready to burst, poised to fall over the edge. He makes a needy noise — involuntary — and it draws Keith closer. The drape of his body gets more pronounced as he crowds Lance back further against the wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You almost there, baby?” He asks, the rhythm of his fingers never faltering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah— ah— </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Lance’s voice is just as wrecked at the rest of him. His fingers clench and unclench and clench again against the plates of Keith’s armor; his whole body writhes under Keith’s touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Keith crowds impossibly </span>
  <em>
    <span>closer</span>
  </em>
  <span>, trailing his lips up Lance’s neck to the base of his jaw— no press of lips, no wet contact, just the lightest brush of his breath against Lance’s sensitive skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His fingers thrust </span>
  <em>
    <span>one two three</span>
  </em>
  <span> — up up up — hard, firm strokes. His other palm hits the wall beside Lance’s head, caging him in. Every line of Lance’s body simmers with Keith’s heat, with their proximity. Keith’s lips finish their journey by trailing across Lance’s cheek. They brush Lance’s, their breaths mingle, it’s a kiss but </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>but it’s still </span>
  <em>
    <span>so close</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance comes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whines, clenches, falls apart. He relaxes completely, falling limp and feeling his cunt do the same, plugged up on Keith’s fingers but still gushing. When he comes to, he’s panting against Keith’s mouth, hands fisted in the fabric of Keith’s undersuit that pokes out by his collar. Slowly he lets his body unfurl, loosening his fingers and brows and dropping his head against Keith’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stays there a moment, relishing the warmth and sturdiness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lifts his head, leaning up to press his forehead to Keith’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...yeah?” He whispers. And they’re so close. He feels the whisper of Keith’s breath against his lips, thinks back to that almost kiss that sent him over the edge. How easy it would be…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay? Is it gone for now?” Keith's voice is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>gentle. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he says again, and leans up desperately for a kiss—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Keith’s already moving. He steadies Lance by the waist and pulls his fingers free slowly with a wet sound that makes Lance blush almost as much as his realization that he misread the situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith wipes his fingers somewhere Lance can’t see and brings his hand back to steady him by the waist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance... feels empty. In more than one way. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I just want to go home, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks miserably, gaze turned downward. He feels the burn of Keith's eyes over him — sees the tentative outreach of his hands in his periphery — as he wrestles his pants back up and winces at the stickiness there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Keith doesn’t touch, he just watches Lance carefully, eyes raking his face. He pauses, as if unsure of what to say. Finally:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance? How do you feel?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels stupid. Tired. Uncomfortably sticky and self conscious. But... the heat’s gone. Feeling the touch of another person has worked wonders, leaving him satisfied where his own finger fucking session in the bathroom left him in need of multiple orgasms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” he mumbles, and he even kind of means it.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Lance isn’t stupid enough to miss the concerned glances Keith shoots him, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>stubborn enough to ignore them. He walks in a purposeful clip, keeping in front of Keith because he’s really too tired for a conversation right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Just get through this stupid ceremony, Lance, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently their little detour gave the artifact enough time to get going, because when Lance had scooped it up off the ground — tossed aside as it was, once he’d fallen to his knees — he’d immediately felt the difference. Now the light pulses quicker out of it, and there’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tug </span>
  </em>
  <span>in Lance’s chest that guides him the right way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a simple matter of following the pull, of emerging from the maze and noting with relief that they’re not the last ones out. Of following the priest’s instructions as to how to join the three pieces and watching the complete artifact glow and float into the air, to the delight of the Wesalians.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance is on edge the whole time, too distracted by his worry that someone will see the dampness or </span>
  <em>
    <span>smell </span>
  </em>
  <span>it even through the thick black spandex of his paladin suit to enjoy it. But finally it’s over, and as soon as the Wesalians transition from the formal ceremony to a celebration, Keith is all but pulling him away from the festivities. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, we’re heading out now,” he says to Allura as they pass, and Lance is too mentally fatigued to add anything. He just nods wordlessly at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance,” she says. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He musters a smile, and then they’re gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the fact that Lance seriously only wants to collapse on his bed and let the oblivion of sleep erase this hellish day, he follows Keith’s gentle prompting, filing into Red and then through the halls of the castleship, all but swaying on his feet. He blinks and finds himself in the medbay, met by Coran’s worried face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. Keith called him? Lance should maybe be concerned that the whole trip passed without retention, but— Coran’s saying something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something about… more waves? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus fucking christ, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance thinks blearily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been quite a while since I saw a case of Distra poisoning,” Coran remarks, too cheerful for the situation, if Lance thinks about it. “But luckily for you, Number Four, I wasn’t voted most thorough Snidwiffler back in my day for nothing!” He gestures to his datapad proudly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got extensive notes on the subject, and most importantly— the treatment! Now, Number Three here tells me you’ve had a couple waves already, which unfortunately places you only a fraction of the way through your reaction. If you do nothing, you’ll experience waves every few hours for the next few days, but you’ll emerge on the other side right as rain!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Coran reaches for a bottle of something he must’ve prepared on the journey. It’s sealed for now, but Lance sees the roiling of purple fumes inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re hustling the feebler to get better, though, young paladin, you can simply inhale some of this concoction! It’ll accelerate the Distra’s effect and get you cleared up after only one more wave.” He hesitates, a rare occurrence with Coran. His voice is more subdued when he continues. “From my observations, the process is… intense — more intense than the waves you’ve likely experienced — but many alteans back in the day opted for it. Of course, many had mates to help them, which is known to help abate the effects much more quickly!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Coran turns serious eyes on Lance, and he’s instantly reminded that yes, Coran is like their silly, eccentric uncle… but he’s also the best medic Lance has ever known, and he cares deeply about their well being. About </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lance’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> well being. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will support you with whatever option you decide, Lance,” Coran says. “Just say the word, my boy, and we’ll get you on your way to recovery!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance is still so tired. “If I inhale the… thing,” he starts, “can I go to sleep? I mean— does it start right away?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s hand presses a little more firmly behind the small of Lance’s back, like he’s trying to hold some of Lance’s weight for him and take a load off his tired feet. Coran, meanwhile, hums and nods. “I don’t see why not. It should take a tick for the vapors to take effect throughout your body.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that settles it. Lance just wants this whole thing </span>
  <em>
    <span>over</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Give me the vapors,” he says. Then, because even exhausted, he’s not about to be rude: “Please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next minutes, again, melt into a sluggish whirlwind. Sluggish on Lance’s part, anyhow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a simple inhalation of the mystery fumes, a burning acrid scent in Lance’s nose that, oddly, isn’t accompanied by any other sensation. It’s a quiet thank you and the sturdy presence of Keith by Lance’s side, walking him to his room. It’s the gentle way Keith helps him strip out of his dirty clothes and digs out pajamas from his drawer while Lance sits wearlily on his mattress, the gentle brush of Keith’s hand over his hair as he tucks Lance into bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Lance’s own hand darting out to stop Keith by the wrist when he tries to leave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait,” he mumbles, too gone to muster up more volume. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Keith.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> His voice lilts into something plaintive, but he needn’t have worried; Keith stops the second he feels Lance’s fingers on his wrist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't go, please. I want—” Lance’s words are interrupted by a yawn. “I want you to help me once it starts again. If you’re willing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Keith says, readily, like he’d just drop everything for Lance. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not “like”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Lance realizes warmly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s exactly what he’s doing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He smiles. “Thank you, Keith.” He closes his eyes, content to drift off. “You’re so good…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance means to say more, but he’s losing energy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance,” Keith says, before he can get too far. The press of his fingers gently under Lance’s chin shocks his eyes open. Keith tilts his face up so their gazes lock, dark dark gray boring into Lance’s own eyes. Keith is just as sincere, as intensely devoted, as always. “I need to know what you’re okay with me doing. Now, before it gets too bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance hopes his desperate, melty, smitten emotions aren't showing on his face. “Everything,” he breathes, then keeps talking before Keith can chastise him for not taking the discussion seriously. “Touch me…” he blushes but continues, “fuck me. Anything you want to do.” Lance lets his eyes slip closed again, partly because the urge to sleep is dragging on him, and partly because he knows they’ll give him away. His eyes have always been too expressive for secrets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance does, however, let a smile grace his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You always make me feel so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears Keith’s inhale and something about that sound — about having an </span>
  <em>
    <span>effect</span>
  </em>
  <span>, no matter what it means, on Keith — gives Lance courage, emboldens him to indulge his greedy heart and reach for more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay with me for now?” he asks, sliding his fingers down to tangle with Keith’s. The other man doesn’t disappoint:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” he says, gentle and accommodating. Just like always. Lance drifts off, content.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>He’s burning when he wakes up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance blearily opens his eyes, and the first thing he notices is that the light’s changed. Instead of the strident, overhead lighting throughout the castle, his room is lit with the subtle blue glow from below of the castle's night lighting and his orange bedside lamp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second thing Lance notices is that he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not aroused, just… warm. Ugh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> warm. His face and collarbones feel damp with sweat; the pajamas he slipped into earlier are sticking to his skin. Also, his head is kind of fuzzy. He has the distinct impression that he’ll be too dizzy to stand if he sits up too fast. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I need water</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. But before he moves to go looking for it, Lance notices the third thing:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shadow, moving in his peripheral vision. Lance turns his head just enough to see—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keith?” He croaks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other man sets aside his data tablet and turns a subtle, heart shattering grin on Lance. “You’re awake,” he says, “good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He stayed, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance thinks, stupidly happy. And Lance should be used to it by now, the way his chest all but implodes when Keith gives him even the tiniest bit of attention. How his heart kicks into overdrive when he sees that stupid, handsome face up close. But seeing Keith sitting back against the headboard, in casual clothes, limned with soft, cozy, bedroom lighting, close enough to touch, </span>
  <em>
    <span>in Lance’s bed…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. Fever aside, Lance is sure his cheeks would be flaming even without it. This is the most intimate they’ve ever been, probably. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes Lance think of long stretches of night — a whole lifetime of quiet evenings, Keith’s steady presence always always beside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I really really </span>
  </em>
  <span>really</span>
  <em>
    <span> like you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance thinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What time is it?” Is what he asks instead, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not too late,” Keith assures. “A little after dinner. I dimmed the lights so you could sleep better.” He motions to the bedside table, and huh. “I brought a plate for you, and water. You need to drink something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How sweet, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance thinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith slips off the bed and does… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> while Lance chugs his water. He’s back a moment later, pressing a cool, wet cloth to Lance’s flushed forehead. Lance sighs involuntarily. He didn’t realize how much he needed that. He only realizes just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot </span>
  </em>
  <span>his body actually is as Keith’s hands — normally so warm in their fleeting touches — glide over his skin as he helps Lance sit up carefully. They feel like stones cooled by a river, sturdy and natural, slightly rough but gentle on his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re burning up,” Keith murmurs. “You should eat. Can’t be long now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because Keith isn’t here to swoon over Lance, to spend time just lazily talking in bed like boyfriends. Keith’s here — they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> here— because sometime soon the Distra pollen will finish burning it’s accelerated way through Lance’s system and he’ll become an aching, writhing, horny shell of himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long do we have?” Lance asks, stomach sinking. It’s stupid, but he kind of wishes they could just stay like this, everything gentle and intimate between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s fingers tilt his chin up so Keith can look down into his eyes, scanning for signs of — Lance doesn’t know what, actually. The points where they touch send pleasurable shivers down Lance’s spine, but Lance guesses that’s more to do with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keith </span>
  </em>
  <span>than with the Distra.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d guess twenty minutes or so,” Keith hums. “I’m—” he huffs a laugh, running a hand through his bangs. It bares a slip of his forehead for a split second and it’s really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>dumb, how that makes Lance’s heart stutter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith continues. “I’m not an expert, but I’ve been reading some info Coran sent over. That’s what I’d guess, based on the signs you show. But, um…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hesitates. It’s odd, to say the least. To see </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keith Kogane</span>
  </em>
  <span> mincing his words. He doesn’t pause for long, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But it seems like it’ll be easier for you if we get a jump on the next wave. If you’ve come by the time it starts, or if you’re already… uh, close.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Lance says, blushing. Which, why is he blushing? He already asked Keith to help, and Keith said yes! It’s all very professional, there’s no need for embarrassment or.. or </span>
  <em>
    <span>feelings</span>
  </em>
  <span>. (His heart, of course, disagrees.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith clears his throat. “You can think about it while you eat. But I want you to have some sustenance in you before it hits, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Lance says again. He dutifully tucks into his food, watching absentmindedly as Keith putters around the room, periodically glancing back at the tablet for reference.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gets a few more wet cloths, slinging one gently around the back of Lance’s neck after Lance gives him a nod of consent. He grabs a pitcher that Lance hadn’t seen across the room and sets it on the bedside table. He rifles through Lance’s drawers and pulls out a set of spare clothes, the soft, baggy kind of outfit that Lance wears when they’re having a rare lazy day around the castle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally he sits down next to Lance, refilling his cup of water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Drink more,” he urges. Lance does. (Lance is learning he’ll do anything Keith says.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he returns to his food goo, Keith turns curious eyes on him. “Hey Lance, you don’t have to tell me, but… well. You’re altean. I guess I’m wondering how?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah. An easy enough question, Lance supposes. And predictable, that Keith would ask about it. He tells the story the same way his dad always told it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When… when Zarkon destroyed Altea, he didn’t get everyone. There were families that managed to escape the planet, and then there were the thousands of diplomats and travelers dispersed throughout the galaxy. Those people went into hiding, knowing the Galra would stop at nothing to decimate them.” Lance pauses to eat a few more bites, looking at Keith to make sure he’s following. Keith’s nodding along, probably sensing the trajectory of the story.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those same alteans used their shapeshifting powers and their ability to integrate with other societies to survive, making lives for themselves on new planets, making sure the local populations were never the wiser. And just like your mom, some ended up on Earth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At this, Lance turns to fully face Keith. What he has to say next is important. “Keith,” he starts, “you can’t tell anyone, okay? My dad broke the rules when he married my mom and told her that he was altean, but he’s always made it very clear to me that no one can know. Alteans have only survived this long because no one knows we’re there… imagine what lengths Zarkon would go to to hunt down the last of them. How much destruction that could cause.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance sighs, shuddering under the horrid mental images conjured by the thought. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you guys. I know you’d all keep it secret, even from the Garrison, but… I grew up learning that sharing my heritage meant possible death, danger. It’s— it’s hard to break a habit so deep.” Lance looks down at the bed, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket. Then a warm, calloused palm covers his own, stopping Lance’s morbid thoughts in their tracks. When Lance looks up, Keith’s sincere gray gaze is waiting for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for trusting me, Lance,” he says. And then, in that awkward but earnest, open way of his, Keith musters a wry smile, as if trying to bring up the mood. “We’re both half aliens,” he says. “That’s kind of cool.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance snickers, grateful to move the conversation to lighter topics. “Yeah, that’s what I thought when we learned you were Galra. Figures.” He hums, considering Keith. “Kinda unfair that you still look human, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, you don’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, right. Keith doesn’t know everything about Lance’s altean genes yet. And actually… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. Lance blushes as he considers it. They need to get a move on, don’t they? Lance’s mind has been wandering these last minutes, but his body is still flushed, feverish. A thin sheen of sweat covers his skin; every sensation is heightened, just the slightest bit. He’s not aroused yet, but— he doesn’t want it to sneak up on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Having a mate makes it easier on you, Coran had said. And so does starting before the Distra pollen has taken effect. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance sets his dish aside slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could… show you?” he offers demurely, eyes downcast, biting at his lip involuntarily. He watches carefully from under his lashes for Keith’s reaction. Keith said yes earlier, but maybe he’s changed his mind. And even if he does still want to… </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance, maybe he doesn’t want to waste his time examining Lance’s body. Maybe he just wants to take their clothes off and get right down to it, clinical. Operational. No feelings involved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ye—yeah,” Keith croaks, eyes wide. On his pale skin, it’s easy to see the blush forming. He clears his throat and recovers, regaining that steady confidence that’s kept them both afloat this whole time. “Okay,” he says, “show me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Can do,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lance thinks, biting down a grin. He sits a bit straighter, chest a little fuller, anticipating Keith’s attention. His fingers play with the hem of his shirt, before, on a whim, he stands up. It’ll be easier to strip down on his feet. The motion of getting up so quickly, though, sends his head spinning, reeling Lance into dizziness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Lance can even consider the fact that he might fall, though, Keith’s hand is there, steadying him. Then there’s a blanket of warmth behind him as Keith gets to his feet, arms loosely cradling Lance and keeping him upright. Keith fingers — so dexterous— run along the hem of Lance’s shirt, the same one Lance fingered just moments ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me,” Keith breathes, lips brushing against Lance's ear. Lance nods, surrendering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leans back against that sturdy chest as Keith brings the drenched cotton up and over Lance’s head, raising his arms to assist but letting Keith do the heavy lifting. When the garment falls to the floor, Keith’s hands come up to stroke appreciatively at the soft, sensitive skin of Lance’s stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What next?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take yours off, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith does. And now when they come together again, the silken feel of Keith’s skin — soft but firm, the hard planes of muscle underneath unyielding — has Lance sighing, temperature rising in his core. Together, they work Lance’s pajama pants off, too, letting them slide down Lance’s legs until he can step out of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The air feels cooler than it did against Lance’s skin. The fever’s growing, he guesses, but he’s no longer scared. He just </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance wiggles his underwear off, bending over as he works the briefs down his legs. Keith’s palm lands on his lower back, making him squirm, and Lance folds a little more than necessary, liking the idea that Keith could be appraising his plush ass, raised in the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rises back to a standing position — slowly this time, to keep him from growing dizzy — and slots himself back against Keith again, fully nude. And—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Lance gasps. Because—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he can even think about it, he’s pressing backward, arching his back to send his ass grinding back on Keith’s bulge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hah,” he pants. “You— I can feel you.” Keith makes a bitten off sound in response but doesn’t move just yet, other than to grip Lance by the hips again and move his lips closer to his ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After Lance nods, Keith rolls his hips just slightly, sending that thick length — Lance can’t see it, can’t feel it all, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>it’s big — sliding into the cleft of his ass. Lance gasps and presses back to meet it, letting their bodies enter a filthy grind. After a few more grinds and a slightly harder thrust from Keith, Lance reaches his limit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His legs are trembling; his whole body vibrates with need, with </span>
  <em>
    <span>heat</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Lance doesn’t know if this is normally how it’d feel with Keith —Keith never fails to make him feel so so </span>
  <em>
    <span>much </span>
  </em>
  <span>— or if it’s the Distra slowly starting to catch up to them. He doesn’t actually care.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, I want you inside me,” he says, breathless. He shudders when Keith growls in response, but then pushes away and crosses to the bed, holding Keith’s gaze with his own as he lays back on the sheets. He lets his legs part and smirks. “You coming?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, Keith’s coming. That much is obvious when he immediately clambers up on the mattress after Lance, one reverent hand trailing up the underside of his calf. He stops once he gets to Lance’s inner thigh, faced with Lance’s rosy, rigid dick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I?” He asks, and Lance is kind of astounded that he doesn’t instead ask about the fact that Lance had a pussy the last time Keith saw him. But he’d be an absolute idiot — not to mention, much, </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> stronger than he is — to refuse any touch from Keith.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” he gasps, arching against the sheets when Keith takes him into his mouth a second later. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ahhn</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sucks in air in desperate mouthfuls, his whole body ablaze under Keith’s burning touch. “You’re not— </span>
  <em>
    <span>hah — </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’re not gonna ask?” He pants. “About my body?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith pulls off and moves to mouthing around Lance’s thighs.  “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> body, you don’t have to explain anything. But… I also figured you’d say something eventually.” Lance’s whole body shudders as Keith nips at the juncture of his leg and hip. “Just because you said you’d show me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance says. “I’ll— </span>
  <em>
    <span>ah</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Stop for a second, fuck, I can’t talk like this.” Keith stills immediately, pulling back so no part of them is touching. Lance props himself up on his elbows and peers down at Keith, framed bare chested and calmly devoted between Lance’s slick brown thighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to tell him everything, to bare himself to Keith in a way he’s never let himself be vulnerable before. “The thing about being altean,” he starts, “is that I can shapeshift. Like when I showed you my marks earlier. But being only half altean, I can only do variations of my human form — what you’re looking at — or... my altean form.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith drinks in the sight of Lance, bare on the bed; Lance knows because Keith’s eyes follow a molten trail down the length of his body. He shivers under the attention, even more intense — more </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful </span>
  </em>
  <span>— than he’s always imagined.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He breathes in, closing his eyes, and switches to his altean form on the exhale. He’s spread out before Keith, ears pointed, body slender, with slim, corded muscles. Marks shine at his cheeks, his collarbones, his ankles, his shoulders and biceps… at his hip bones, too, right by his pussy and the little cocklet above. Just as before, they shine various shades of pastel, but they’re muted now, tamped down by Lance’s nerves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beautiful,” Keith breathes. And Lance’s marks instantly give him away, flaring with color. He forces himself to stay where he is. He trusts Keith. He wants Keith to see him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance… you’re gorgeous,” Keith says. He presses a kiss to the mark on Lance’s left ankle, smiling as it flashes and Lance squirms in response. “Thank you for showing me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance nods, wordlessly, endlessly pleased but exposed, dangerously close to spilling out his feelings. He slips back into the comfort — the protection - of his human form, even as he wraps a leg around Keith and pulls him closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance’s fingers slip back into Keith's hair, twining through the beautiful black strands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you still fuck me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re face to face, whisper to whisper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I like… if you don’t mind…” Lance lets himself go, morphing into his pussy. He’s still in his human form, for the most part— it's just what’s between his legs that’s changed. But this… this is his favorite form.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s been trained his whole life to stay looking human, to avoid suspicion. It’s the reason why he’s almost invariably reverted back to his standard human form — dick and all — every time he wakes up. Altean gender comes solely from presentation, and Lance doesn’t actually have a “normal” set of genitalia, a baseline to fall back on; every form of Lance is just as much a part of him as any other. It’s just… well. Earth can be cruel to those who are different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s always learned to stick to what let him blend in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he loves, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>loves </span>
  </em>
  <span>having some sort of cunt, having slick folds he can run his fingers through and a hole that preps itself for his ministrations. He loves having something </span>
  <em>
    <span>in him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants Keith in him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay with this?” He asks, uncharacteristically shy. Revealing his own preference feels extremely vulnerable, especially after showing Keith his shape shifting in action. As always with Keith, though, he doesn’t need to worry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance,” Keith says, almost raggedly. “I’m okay with anything with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Relief spirals warmly behind Lance’s ribcage. He relaxes muscles he didn’t even know were clenched, spooling back against the sheets in a languid puddle. Lance smiles. He appraises Keith with half lidded eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Keith does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He spares a moment to step out of his pants, tossing them and his briefs aside somewhere. Lance doesn’t see where they end up because he’s too riveted by the sight of Keith’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>cock</span>
  </em>
  <span>, purple and hard and throbbing and </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge</span>
  </em>
  <span> between his legs. The thick, flushed head leaks precome before Lance’s eyes— too much of it to be human. And there are ridges along the underside of Keith’s length. They look deliciously pleasurable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t look </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> human, do I?” Keith asks, a self deprecating grin on his face. Lance knows he’s just trying to lighten the mood, to joke back to their earlier conversation, but it still makes him a little upset that Keith could feel anything but pride over that beautiful </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful </span>
  </em>
  <span>cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you,” he says. “Please, I want your cock.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Keith, like always, obliges.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On your knees for me,” he whispers. And then, once Lance is in position — ass up, that glorious cock running through his slick and poking at his hole, so so  close to giving Lance everything he’s been wanting — then, Keith sinks inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ohhh,” Lance moans. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Fuck, it’s so good, those ridges and that thick, flared head are soothing his burning body from the inside out, a wonderful texture against his inner walls. Keith grunts and grips at Lance’s hips hard, evidently feeling the same heady pleasure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lance, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck. </span>
  </em>
  <span> Look at you, just sucking me in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>to finally be full the way Lance has been craving for hours now, to have nice, </span>
  <em>
    <span>thick</span>
  </em>
  <span> cock inside him. It’s even better to know that he’s making Keith feel good, too. As Keith starts moving — slow, shallow thrusts — Lance spreads his legs and pushes back to meet his thrusts, trying to make it good for Keith. His own heart is galloping in his chest, the pleasure almost unfathomable — something about how keyed up he is, how much he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>Keith, even long before the Distra — and he wants Keith to feel it, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily, Lance has another ace up his sleeve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They won’t tell you this in the history books, but alteans know: altean ambassadors weren’t the only ones forging alliances across the universe. No: the courtesans and escorts were popular, too. The ability to change one's anatomy, to stretch and withstand even the roughest pounding, to morph into an even more accommodating form if one's natural body is too limited, to toggle between dick and pussy or land somewhere in between… There's a reason alteans are the ideal sexual partners. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So the moment Lance decides to let himself go, trusting both himself and Keith; the moment he lets Keith feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of him —his altean form — he isn’t surprised by Keith’s groan of pleasure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He revels in it, in the way it’s pushed out of Keith as Lance's pussy shrinks and tightens around his cock. As Lance himself becomes more slender, more flexible, more </span>
  <em>
    <span>pliant.</span>
  </em>
  <span> As his markings appear and glow, just slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuuuck,” Keith groans. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His cock feels bigger inside Lance now, an intrusion. Like this, it’s easy to tell they’re different species; Keith’s cock really isn’t proportional to Lance’s tiny hole.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you might like — </span>
  <em>
    <span>haa— </span>
  </em>
  <span>to feel my altean form,” Lance breathes, too sensitive — too turned on — to be smug. He’s so ready for Keith to go harder, doesn’t want to wait even a second to let himself adjust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because shapeshifting isn’t the only perk of altean genes. Alteans are chameleons, the ultimate adapters. Their bodies are flexible and strong despite their litheness to allow for the stress of shapeshifting and to protect them against the much stronger and larger societies with which they interact. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So when Lance says he can take it, he means it. his whole body is flexible and hardy; that includes his pussy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, he’s tiny. His altean form is even slighter than his human one, and his altean pussy stays perpetually tight, so elastic that it tightens back up even after being stretched wide. But it never hurts him; his hole conforms perfectly to the shape of the objects that enter it, adapting to each new cock just as well as alteans adapt to countless cultures.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can take it, so Lance wants the fucking of a lifetime.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s still motionless behind him, shocked and captivated. He splays his hand over Lance’s torso. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>holy fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his hand almost spans the entire width of Lance’s waist. It makes Lance shiver in want under him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuckin’ tiny little waist,” Keith murmurs. He traces one of Lance’s marks — a lilac curlique that swirls from his waist to just under his shoulder blade— with a finger. Light pulses from Lance’s skin as the warmth of Keith’s touch seeps in, as Keith leans down to kiss it. “So pretty, god.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hearing the rumble of his voice always stirs something in Lance, but now? Hearing praise in that deep, warm voice… It makes the fire in Lance stroke higher, helps his hole loosen and leak around Keith, slicking the way for Keith’s ravaging. He squirms and bows his back, proffering his hole to Keith for better access, sweet round asscheeks spreading to show off his breached little pussy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm, Keith, I need it, please,” Lance mewls. He’s so ready. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>body </span>
  </em>
  <span>is so ready. He rocks backward, panting at the shift of Keith inside him, bouncy little ass shaking as he massages Keith’s cock with his cunt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants Keith’s cock imprinted inside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, baby, okay,” Keith groans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he slowly slides out, the length of his cock dragging along Lance’s walls for </span>
  <em>
    <span>ages</span>
  </em>
  <span> as he slowly withdraws his length. Lance feels every ridge, every jolt of that magnificent girth as it leaves him, his pussy wrapped tight tight tight but yielding around it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s teasing him with it, the slide slow and agonizing. It hints at sensation, feels good but </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful</span>
  </em>
  <span> with the way it only leaves him craving for more, unsatisfied and clenching desperately around that thick cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it just keeps fucking going.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ahh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Keith, you’re so— </span>
  <em>
    <span>uh—</span>
  </em>
  <span> big,” he pants. “Oh, hmm, fuck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, you feel all of me inside you, baby? O—ooh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’re tight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And finally — finally — only Keith’s cockhead remains inside, strangled by Lance's pussy as it clenches down to keep it inside, to entice it back inward. He breathes a content sigh into his forearms, spreading his thighs even further and bracing for Keith’s thrusts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith pulls his cockhead free with a wet sound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Lance’s eyes snap open as it processes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there’s no time to think. Because the second he’s empty, the heat hits Lance with a fury, tingling out through his whole body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath catches in his throat, instant suffocation under such oppressive warmth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, hah—hah,” he pants, increasingly panicked as his throat tightens. He writhes, not just in protest, in a mad effort to stimulate his </span>
  <em>
    <span>throbbing </span>
  </em>
  <span>cunt and cock, but in fear. He finally manages to shudder in a breath and speaks to Keith through tears:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No! </span>
  </em>
  <span>No, please! Please Keith I—“ Lance squirms and whines in agony, tears pooling in his eyes and head whipping around to search out Keith’s cock. His breathing labors at the thought that Keith’ll leave him like this, torturing him with a taste of ecstasy and leaving him bereft.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh god, it’s so much worse than before; the fever’s progressed, maybe. Or maybe his body’s just mourning the loss, reacting even harder now that it’s had a taste of euphoria, of fullness. His fingers clench into distraught fists in the sheets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh, baby,” Keith whispers, right behind his ear. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the bed shifts as he moves, climbing up behind Lance, his body bracketing Lance in. Planes of hard, hot muscle slide along Lance’s back and cage him into the mattress, a wonderful prison. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance is small and safe under Keith’s larger body, protected and able to focus his all on being </span>
  <em>
    <span>good, </span>
  </em>
  <span>taking Keith’s cock perfectly like the perfect slut he is. To focus on spreading his little cunt, welcoming Keith’s seed deep inside…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He aches at the thought, pussy drip drip dripping between them. His little cock presses rock hard against his belly, leaking. The heat clouds his mind and he shudders under another wave, mouth dropped open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he feels the warm pressure of Keith’s cockhead poking at his folds. Keith grips his cock and rubs it over Lance’s little fluttering hole, teasing inside just barely before leaving again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Lance sobs. “Please, keith!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chases the sensation, ass jiggling as he tries unsuccessfully to spear himself on Keith’s girth. Hands, wide and calloused, smooth over the mounds of his asscheeks, a gentle pressure, gliding over the luscious flesh. Keith’s grip turns iron-tinged, fingers digging in and spreading Lances pert little asscheeks apart like he cant help but squeeze and pull, opening Lance to his gaze. Lance's pussy trembles under the attention, bared and open to the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Open enough that when Keith's cockhead finds its way between Lance’s thighs again, it’s all but sucked into that hole, fitting right up against the tiny opening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Lance whimpers again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that must do it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Keith groans, sinking inside with a firm push. It’s —</span>
  <em>
    <span> oh.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instant relief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ahhh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Lance breathes, the sigh of a weary traveler finding respite in the shade. He goes limp under the comfort, face pressing into his forearms and hole relaxing to help the gentle intrusion that’s cooling him from the inside out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Keith’s cock</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Lance thinks as he presses back to meet the thick flesh forcing its way inside him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>must be magic.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It’s insane, the difference, how one second ago Lance was thrashing and panting through a lust-fueled fever daze, and now he puddles on the sheets in ecstatic sobriety, speared and stretched on cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His head clears, no fear of the fever, only focus on the pleasure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, you like my cock that much?” Keith asks, and there’s a clear tinge of wonder in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s— it’s just the feve—“ Lance starts to deny, but then Keith’s cock presses right up against his g spot, sending starbursts behind his eyes and his legs spasming. “—ahhhn </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, you do, don’t you? Such a sensitive little pussy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His arms bracket Lance, keep Lance enclosed under him against the bed. But he lifts one hand, supporting his weight on one arm, and grips Lance’s hip, sliding up and down over the skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sensitive little pussy taking me so well. Letting me — </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck— </span>
  </em>
  <span>just split you open on my cock.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s hand slides inward to stroke Lance’s dick. And… oh, his hand engulfs Lance’s whole cock. He’s holding all of Lance. The very thought makes him whimper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ke—eith,” he moans. “Fuck me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Keith does, rocking into Lance in slow but </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing </span>
  </em>
  <span>thrusts, each slide impossibly tight between them as Lance's elastic pussy clings to the cock inside him. It doesn’t hurt, not at all; it’s the most blinding, overwhelming pleasure Lance has ever experienced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance stays on his elbows, barely avoiding burying his face in the sheets as he’s overtaken with sensation, unable to do anything but push back against Keith, spear his own body open on huge galra cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he gasps. “Keith please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Keith kisses the back of his neck. “Anything, baby. What do you want?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“F—faster, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fire grows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They turn relentless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith works hot and ferocious behind him, thrusting hard enough to jolt Lance’s body up the bed, hands bruising where they grip his hips to keep him in place under the assault. Lance whimpers with each thrust, pussy weeping and fluttering, trying to entice that huge length deeper and deeper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance bows his back, pushes his ass out and up to meet every thrust, screaming each time Keith’s blunt cockhead rams into his g spot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ohhhh, Keith! Ah, ah, ah!” He screams, fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sheets. “Uhhhn, it’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>goood</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, you like that? Yeah?” And </span>
  <em>
    <span>ohhh </span>
  </em>
  <span>who gave Keith the right to sound so good, so smug at the idea of Lance losing it over his cock? Lance can’t respond, just nodding his head frantically against the bed, panting and whining. His own dick, jolted with every thrust, leaks onto the sheets below. They’re making a mess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God, I wanna cum inside you so bad. Lance, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I wanna fill this pretty pussy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, yes please, Keith, hahhh, fill me up!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith groans a victory above him and presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to his neck. Lance feels his lips turn up into a self-satisfied grin and his hands tighten on Lance’s body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, Keith </span>
  <em>
    <span>likes</span>
  </em>
  <span> that. Lance hears it in his voice when he says: </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m gonna fill you up </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> good, baby.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what he says. But then he fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>pulls out.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s the second time now,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lance thinks. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“What</span> <span>the </span><em><span>fu— </span></em><span>oh!” he cries, feeling himself airborne for a brief second before landing on his back. And wow, okay, the view might just be worth the impromptu position change; Keith's looming over him, eyes dark and dilated, hair wild, chest heaving, muscles gleaming with a light sheen of sweat. He looks </span><em><span>ravenous.</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s hand grips the back of Lance's calf and </span>
  <em>
    <span>jerks</span>
  </em>
  <span> him forward to the end of the bed, and that's it. He falls on Lance like a predator, hot and hard and hungry, body trapping Lance’s against the bed in the best way. He bites at Lance’s neck and presses his knees out, bending Lance into the most open and vulnerable position to take his cock. His lips claim Lance’s in an electric kiss right as he splits Lance open again, cockhead a blunt battering ram that bullies its way inside Lance's little cunt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith spares no mercy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instantly, Lance grabs two giant handfuls of the sheets, fingers holding on for dear life as Keith's hips start pummelling his smaller body. His mouth has dropped open, sweet little mewls forced out of him on each thrust, the slide of Keith’s body stimulating his throbbing dick. His toes curl and</span>
  <em>
    <span> — oh! — </span>
  </em>
  <span>his legs kick out blindly whenever Keith's shaft grazes his g spot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's helpless, lost to the pleasure, unable to do much but weakly match the motion and yank Keith down into one long, continuous kiss. Their sounds are muffled, reflected into eachothers' mouths, but the room still resounds with the harsh wet slapping sound of Keith’s hips slamming into Lance’s, of Keith’s balls smacking against the wet folds he’s plundering so thoroughly, their filthy soundtrack amplified by the way Lance’s eager little cunt slicks the way, desperate for cock and gushing to prove it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their kiss slips apart, both of them gasping for air, the motion of Keith's hips never faltering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hah, ah— </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keith</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Ahhh fu— fuck,” Lance sobs, moaning into his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck Lance, so good, so perfect.” Keith’s hands search his out, coax Lance’s fingers from their fabric-filled clench and thread them between his own. He presses his forehead against Lance’s. It means Lance can see his face up close — the dark sweep of his lashes, the thick furrow of his brows, the sharp cut of his jaw. The pleasure in his eyes. It’s so much — too much — in the best way. It sends a pulse through Lance that has him clenching down around Keith as his heart flutters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ahh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he gasps. And Keith's hips jerk once out of rhythm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, Lance, I cant last much longer,” he pants. “I wanna — I wanna cum inside you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yesss</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah? You want that still? You sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck Keith</span>
  </em>
  <span> for being so goddamn considerate, even balls deep inside him, even while rocking Lance’s body with those deliciously powerful thrusts of his. What, does he want Lance to beg for it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keeeeith,” Lance sobs. “C’mon, please!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’m gonna fill you up, pump this gorgeous cunt so full.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh—!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance’s body tightens all over, core clenching and fingers digging into Keith's back as he gets closer and closer. His flushed skin tingles around his marks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gonna come </span>
  <em>
    <span>deep</span>
  </em>
  <span> inside you, just like you deserve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The breaths tear out of Lance’s chest with each thrust, leave him gasping breathlessly against Keith’s mouth, his cries rising and rising and rising in pitch:  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Inside me, please, please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Ah—ahh, Keith!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance’s pussy quivers and tenses, his fingernails digging into the muscles of Keith’s broad shoulders. His marks pulse brightly, their bursts of light matching his rabbit heartbeat. His legs lock around Keith and tighten. His breath catches and his head tosses back in wordless ecstasy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith thrusts one more time— strong, hard, </span>
  <em>
    <span>deep.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They hurtle over the edge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room fills with sound as Keith roars and tenses; everything around Lance is heat and sound and intense sensation—skin on skin, lips on lips, sound reverberating against sound. Silk sheets and large hands against his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And inside him, the jerking of Keith’s big cock as it paints his walls white with seed. The warm spill of cum — so much of it, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>deep </span>
  </em>
  <span>inside him — sends Lance clenching into orgasm, cock spurting on his chest, pussy tightening and shuddering around Keith’s cock, then relaxing into boneless bliss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They crumple into an exhausted heap, Keith dropping to his elbows above Lance and panting against his neck, cock still throbbing, pumping Lance with rope after rope of seed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, they’re still.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They don’t speak. They can't. Well, Lance can’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And judging by the way Keith groans as he pulls out and flops over next to Lance, he’s speechless, too. Lance moves as much he can — just angling his body toward Keith, a tilt of his head to rest against Keith's shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stop to catch their breath. And Lance— ohh, Lance can feel Keith’s cum spilling out of him, dribbling out of his wrecked little hole. He shifts and feels it sloshing inside him, feels the thick, hot trail of it trickling down between his asscheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith’s there, marking the innermost reaches of Lance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Lance sighs, and it comes out much more dreamy than hed planned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keith laughs, deep, warm, comforting like chocolate. “Yeah,” he murmurs. He brings a hand up to brush the hair off Lance's face, thumb brushing against his cheekbone, and Lance's tired heart still manages to skip a beat. His marks flare briefly on his cheeks. “Was that good for you, baby? Did you like it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance thinks blearily — </span>
  <em>
    <span>dreamily — </span>
  </em>
  <span>as he nods. He’s crashing now, the sugary, woozy spiral after the high. Several thoughts flit through his mind all at once as he toes the edges of sleep; thoughts like </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect </span>
  </em>
  <span>and</span>
  <em>
    <span> loved it </span>
  </em>
  <span>and</span>
  <em>
    <span> thank you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love you,” he murmurs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mind clumsily makes the connection, tired, fumbling synapses finally connecting the dots a whole two seconds after the words have left his mouth. And maybe it’s the bone deep exhaustion or the way his every muscle has relaxed. Maybe it’s the dopamine still thrumming through his veins. But Lance doesn’t mind. He’s not angry or scared or upset or worried about accidentally saying those words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe because they’re true.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, it’s a bit of a shock to him — not the feeling; he's felt like this for Keith for… forever. It's the idea that he never knew what it was. That he was just living with such a potent glow in his chest and never stopped to question the depth of that feeling. That he just blurted it out post the most amazing sex of his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It feels good. Cathartic. And a subtle part of Lance that he’s unknowingly kept under lock and key soothes and softens, relaxing just like the lazy sprawl of Lance’s sex-softened muscles over the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he lets the words stew, still feeling warm and bubbly in the afterglow. He’s not afraid to have said it, not when Keith is the most supportive, gentle, kind man this side of the galaxy. And he's right to be fearless:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sweetheart</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Keith whispers, leaning in for a kiss, “I love you, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lance meets him perfectly in the middle, like two opposite elements — fire and water— merging into steam. It’s a seamless fit, their natural conclusion; it’s impossible to be afraid about unknown futures, not with Keith by his side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Lance knows he’ll never have to worry about burning up again, because Keith will always be there to balance it out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’ll figure out the unspoken bits later. For now, they fall asleep wrapped in each other, invincible.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here it is! The long awaited second chapter, over double the length of the first, which hopefully makes up for the wait ;) Thank you so much for being patient with me! Your comments are ~amazing~ and really fuel me!! &lt;3 &lt;3</p>
<p>Also, I have exciting news (you guys are actually the first to hear)!! I'll be doing a FIC GIVEAWAY on my twitter, so go check it out if you're interested in the chance of having me write something for you! :) I'm really excited, I think it'll be fun!!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please consider leaving kudos (you don't need to be signed in!), comments, or other feedback on my socials. &lt;3 &lt;3 It would totally make my day!! Also, feel free to subscribe to my profile so you don't miss any updates ;)</p>
<p>You can find me on twitter at @FiresHeavenly (NSFW: https://twitter.com/FiresHeavenly) or on tumblr as heavenlyfires (https://heavenlyfires.tumblr.com). Come say hi!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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